He stopped and turned to her, his face set in wrathful lines. ‘Christine, I’ve had enough! Now, do you get that dress off or do I take it off for you?’ He was towering over her in what she could only describe as a threatening and domineering manner and the tears began to flow, running unhindered on to her dress. ‘Well, answer me!’
She sagged and wept into her hands, ‘I’ll change,’ she faltered and went with dragging feet to the wardrobe. After choosing a pair of bright blue cotton pants and a short-sleeved blouse, she went into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door properly. She listened to Luke on the telephone, hearing the harsh words spoken in a slightly raised voice.
‘No, she will not be coming! Christine’s going to the party with me. Steve—keep away from her! Do you understand? I am ordering, not telling! Keep away from Christine!’ A silence followed and then, isn’t it my business? ‘And what makes you think that? It is very much my business! I shall protect her—’ Another silence after Steve had obviously interrupted. Then Christine heard, ‘From you, but from herself as well!’ The receiver was replaced and, peeping out, Christine saw Luke go over to the window and stare out through the mosquito netting. He was furious. . . . What had she done to their relationship this time? A flood of remorse mingled with a great wave of sadness and the tears came faster than before. Luke’s face was pale and rigid when at last she came from the bathroom knuckling her eyes.
‘All these tears for a man you can’t have!’ His hard eyes drilled into her. ‘Have you considered what people would say if you had your way over this?’
She was silent, wanting desperately to tell him that the tears this time were not for Steve at all but shed because of her own widening of the rift that had come between Luke and herself. She glanced into those hard eyes and tried to tell him, but his anger was causing a terrible choking sensation in her throat so that words were impossible to articulate.
‘I’m—r-ready,’ she managed at last, and after he had moved impatiently to let her know he was waiting.
In the car she again knew the desperate urge to tell him how she felt, and to tell him she was sorry, but on glancing sideways at his stem forbidding profile, her courage failed her and she remained silent. The atmosphere thickened and the pain in her heart was excruciating. She felt she would want to die if Luke cast her off altogether, if he should lose all interest in her and begin to treat her as he treated so many other women—with disinterest and often contempt should they try to attract his attention. Since ever she had known him he had seemed not to have any interest in women, not until Clarice and that, she felt, was a superficial attachment from which he could cut adrift without the merest hint of a qualm.
No interest in women . . . But yet he had always had an interest in her, she mused. Yes, indeed, always he had been keenly interested in all she did or said. He had not once rejected her or held aloof from her at those times when she sought his tenderness or compassion. And she had now begun to realise just how patient he had always been with her, how ready to listen, to comfort, to give her affection and love. Love ... He loved her she was sure, as a big brother, of course, or a father. It was a beautiful love, selfless and sincere. Christine felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, and when eventually the car was crunching to a stop beneath some flamboyant trees outside the ranch-style villa owned by David and Martha Smilley she turned impulsively and said in quivering tones that yet held the softness of a plea, ‘Luke—I’m sorry for—for— for losing my temper. There wasn’t any excuse . . .oh, Luke, don’t be angry with me! I couldn’t bear it.’
He stopped the car and switched off the engine. She felt his strong arm come around her shoulders and instinctively and with a heart bursting with gratitude she leant against him, drawing on his strength for comfort.
‘Forget it, my Chris,’ he said gently and his cool lips caressed her cheek. ‘You’re such a baby, dear. Grow up, my little girl—grow up quickly so that you can see things straight.’
‘See things straight?’ she echoed, baffled. ‘Luke, you’re talking in riddles again.’
He sighed. Trouble was, he thought, she had grown used to regarding him as a guardian or uncle, a man to lean upon and that was all.
‘One day, my Chris, you’ll not say that, because you will have left the tender years behind you,’
‘But after one’s teens one begins to get old.’ She snuggled close, savouring the delightful smell of aftershave mingling with the nice, clean odour of newly laundered linen.
‘Not old, dear, just a little bit more mature.’ His voice took on a tender note as he added, ‘You’ll never grow old, Chris. At ninety you’ll still be young.’
She sighed against him and her arm crept up and around his neck. ‘I love you, Luke. You know that, don’t you?’ Strangely, Steve was as vague as the misted heavens at this moment. She was glad she was with Luke and going to the party.
‘Do you love me, dear? Are you quite sure?’ The words came from the very depths of his heart but she did not understand what it was that he really wanted in her answer.
‘Of course!’ she returned eagerly. ‘You’re my haven, my sanctuary from pain and from the hurts that others sometimes give me. I shall always come to you, Luke, when I need sympathy.’ Lifting her face, she kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘Oh, Luke, you were so right in making me come here with you!’
‘You think that?’ He seemed rather taken aback for a moment. ‘What about your date with Steve?’ He spoke slowly, as if the mention of Steve came unwillingly.
‘I feel sorry for him, Luke; he’s very sad.’ She ought to add that Steve loved her but, somehow, she actually flinched at the idea of saying anything that would annoy Luke. ‘He’ll be on his own this evening.’
‘He can go out; there’s always plenty to do on Pirates’ Cay.’
Which was quite true. And as Steve was so well known on the island he’d soon find someone to talk to if he decided to go out to dinner at one of the restaurants.
‘Well, dear, we had better be going in.’ But Luke drew her close to him and, taking her chin in his hand in the most proprietorial way, he kissed her hard on the mouth. For a long moment she stayed close even after he had slackened his hold. A hand went tentatively to her lips and a finger caressed them wonderingly. Even yet again she was aware of changes in Luke . . . and in herself. . . .
Chapter Seven
SHE awoke to the beauty of a dawn sky and the realisation that she was being watched. She turned her head a fraction and looked into his eyes.
There was Jenny Cavendish who had made no secret of her liking for Luke; she was a charming girl, but although Luke was always gracious towards her he had never shown any real interest. Another girl who would very much have liked to gain Luke’s interest was Paula Reeves, daughter of a millionaire hotel owner and as beautiful as they come. Christine recalled one particu-lar occasion when Luke had danced with Paula; she had flirted with him, had used every trick she could command and Christine, feeling piqued for no reason she could explain, had said pettishly to Luke, ‘That girl’s a flirt! I don’t know how you could be so nice with her!’ And Luke had glanced at Christine very strangely indeed but made no comment on the complaint she had made.
‘Are you enjoying it, Chris?’ Luke’s quiet voice severed her musings and she glanced up with a ready smile.
‘Of course. These cutlets are delicious!’
‘I agree.’ His reply was brief and Christine had the impression that he had almost said, ‘Very different fare from what you’d have had at Steve’s.’ But he had refrained because he never spoke of Steve these days and she felt sure he was hoping she would forget him. And perhaps she would have, she thought, if the marriage had turned out right. But now . . . There was a chance that she and Steve would get together and make a wonderful go of their marriage. ‘What are you thinking?’ Luke’s voice again. He might almost be able to read her mind, the way he had broken into her reflections.
‘It wasn’t important,’ she replied, glad of the darkness which hid from his perceptive eyes the fact that she had lied. Steve was the most important person in her life.
She and Luke had wandered from the brilliantly lighted area to a warm, starlit clearing beyond the formal parts of the gardens. Here was the natural vegetation of the island, mainly palms and tall pines, and here and there a coloured electric bulb had been fixed to a branch so that the red and green and blue lights intermingled to give a soft romantic glow to supplement the light from the moon and a million stars flickering around it.
They found a seat and took possession of it, sitting with their plates on their knees, eating in a companionable silence, the kind of silence which they both enjoyed. For Christine it was the closeness of her companion, the knowledge that he was there for her to confide in if she wished. Tonight, she felt an added depth to this almost unreal hush that lay between them, as if magical vibrations were passing from one mind and body to the other.
‘I feel strange,’ she whispered, not meaning to voice what was in her mind.
‘Strange? In what way?’
‘It’s—it’s magical out here tonight.’
‘No different from any other night of its kind. You’re on an exotic island, remember.’
‘I know—but—’ She raised her face in the cool moonlight. ‘Don’t you feel anything, Luke?’
‘Such as?’
‘A closeness between you and me— A different closeness, I mean,’ she added hurriedly.
‘Different . . .’ The dear familiar voice held an odd inflection. ‘Many things are different between you and me, Chris. Time alone creates changes.’
Something in his voice that was significant, but she railed to catch it. She said with a sudden frown, ‘You enjoy talking in riddles, don’t you, Luke?’
His slow smile did something to her it had never done before. ‘I merely stated a fact: that time alone creates changes. We have to accept them and live with them— or we can reject them and veer onto a different course. Either way the changes play a significant part in our lives, and sometimes the veering of a different course can bring us nothing but heartache and regret.’
So he wasn’t talking in riddles now.
‘You’re referring to the way Steve and I are with one another?’
‘I warned you not to do anything you’d regret.’ Luke’s voice was terse now and Christine found herself changing the subject.
‘When are you going to Grand Bahama again? I loved it there. Have you decided to buy a house—You mentioned something about it, didn’t you?’
For a moment he made no reply but just looked at her, and it was plain that he was well aware of the reason for this apparent interest in the house he intended buying on Grand Bahama Island. ‘I shall be going next week. Perhaps, seeing that you like it so much, you’d come with me? I intend staying for about ten days.’
She shook her head immediately. ‘Not this time, Luke,’ was all she said and the silence fell like a cloak around them again, but this time its effect was smothering.
‘Shall we go back to the others?’ His voice was still terse as he rose from the seat. ‘We haven’t spoken to Martha yet.’
‘I didn’t see either her or David when we first arrived, and when I eventually did see them they were far too busy.’
‘Slaving over that hot charcoal grill. They’ve always insisted on doing the cooking themselves, as you know.’
Conventional talk . . . Where had the closeness gone? Christine sighed with regret and knew that she alone was to blame for this chilly atmosphere that had replaced the intimate warmth of a few minutes ago.
Martha came up to them immediately they reached the swimming pool. ‘We were so glad you could make it after all, Christine,’ she said, her round homely face wreathed in smiles of pleasure. ‘What was it? You merely rang and told David you weren’t able to come, after all.’
At a loss for words Christine sent Luke an imploring glance. And as always he came to her rescue. ‘Christine felt she ought not to come without Greta, but I persuaded her.’
Coerced, you mean, said Christine with her eyes.
‘Greta . . . and Steve? They wanted to be alone, I suppose?’
‘Something of the kind,’ agreed Luke in an expressionless voice.
‘I accepted for her and I ought not to have done,’ put in Christine apologetically.
‘Well, never mind, so long as you two are here.’ Martha, approaching forty but looking rather older because of her chubby face and rounded figure, was a Bahamian and so was David. They ran a general store on Pirates’ Cay and were about to buy another one on Grand Bahama Island. She and her husband were famous for their parties, their going to a great deal of trouble and always making sure the food was delicious and plentiful, with gallons of champagne flowing in addition to other wines and beer and liqueurs. ‘Have a lovely time, won’t you? I must be off or David’ll be telling me I’m shirking!’
‘She’s super!’ exclaimed Christine. ‘I don’t know how Greta could resist coming.’
‘Have you any idea when her mother’s coming back from her . . . holiday?’
The hesitation . . . Where was Loreen? In New York with her boyfriend? Last time she went away it was because she wasn’t feeling well and the doctor had recommended a cruise.
‘No, I haven’t any idea. Father’s becoming impatient, but he’s scarcely ever in at nights now, so he’s certainly not feeling lonely.’ Her voice was edged with sadness and Luke slipped an arm about her shoulders.
‘Stop worrying,’ he advised, ‘because you can’t alter anything.’
‘So much is going wrong,’ she mused, falling into step as he urged her towards the place where the grill was glowing and appetising smells pervading the area all around it. David was browning sausages and he smiled and handed them some as they held out their plates.
‘The sauces are over there, on that table.’
‘Thanks, David, but these don’t need sauces.’ Luke chatted for a few minutes and Christine’s thoughts sped to the shop they intended to buy, and she wondered if they would eventually move to Grand Bahama Island. She would miss them. . . . Changes again! If only she could halt them; if only things would stay as they were. But no. She wanted certain changes, for she wanted to become Steve’s wife. She was madly in love with him ... yet she was enjoying herself with Luke. . . .